


YouTuber Egos One-shots

by sympathetic_deceit_trash



Series: Arson's One-shot/Drabble books [1]
Category: Antisepticeye - Fandom, Darkiplier - Fandom, Wilford Warfstache - Fandom, Youtuber Egos - Fandom
Genre: Anti and Robbie are brothers, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Nightmares, One Shot Collection, Poly Relationship, Trauma, Wilford and Dark make Anti jealous but jealous of BOTH of them, anti and the other septiceyes are like brothers, but anti is the weird one nobody wants to invite to anything, ill add more tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25805137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sympathetic_deceit_trash/pseuds/sympathetic_deceit_trash
Summary: What to expect:-The Septiceyes consider each other brothers, Anti becomes one of them whether he likes it or not-Dark and Anti are gay as fuck-Wilford angst-Dantistache because it's great-Antistache, possibly Darkstache
Relationships: Antisepticeye & Darkiplier, Antisepticeye (Jacksepticeye Power Hour)/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Antisepticeye/Darkiplier, Darkiplier & Wilford Warfstache, Darkiplier/Antisepticeye, Darkiplier/Antisepticeye/Wilford Warfstache, antisepticeye & robbie the zombie, antisepticeye & wilford warfstache
Series: Arson's One-shot/Drabble books [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115798
Comments: 15
Kudos: 49





	1. Nightmares|Danti

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: 566 (I usually try to get to 1,000 words but this one was a vent fic)

No no no no no no no-

It was too bright, it burned, but he was so hot, too hot, so empty feeling. No one was there, he was alone, alone forever.

His skin itched and burned. He felt like he was burning from the inside out, any noises he made choked off and died in his throat.

"Anti."

Anti tried to turn to see who was speaking, but found himself frozen still, helpless as a tear rolled down his cheek.

It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it-

" _ Anti, wake up! _ " Someone was shaking him. His eyes shot up and he sat straight up, gasping for air.

"No, please, I-"

"Sh, stop, calm down." Hands gently encircled his wrists, pulling his hands away from where he'd been clawing at his own skin. 

"Dark?" Anti muttered, his eyes wildly looking around the room for potential threats, like a cornered wild animal.

"Sh…" Dark gently used a hand to turn Anti's head to face him. "I'm here."

"Dark." Anti echoed softly, relaxing a bit as he met Dark's gaze, still panting as he tried to catch his breath.

"Just focus on me. Can you breathe?" Dark asked softly. For a moment, Anti wasn't sure if it was worth responding to. What if this was just another dream?

But then he noticed Dark's bedhead, dark hair falling into his scarlet eyes. He noticed Dark's cheesy 'I'm with stupid' t-shirt he would wear to bed after Anti bought him it for his birthday a few years ago. He noticed the chipping black nail polish on Dark's fingers from a few nights ago, when he helped Dark paint his nails.

"Anti?"

"Dark," Anti whispered, leaning forward and burying his face in the crook of Dark's neck, slumping forward against his body as he felt Dark's arms wrap around him.

"You're okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, now, anyway." He muttered, inhaling deeply. Dark didn't have his cologne on, it was before he would normally wake up and get ready. Anti liked how Dark smelled with or without the cologne, as both were so purely Dark that it overrode any other opinions he had about the scent.

Dark, just Dark, no cologne, was his preference, though.

"Do you think you can go back to bed? Or should I turn the TV on?" He said softly to him. Anti quietly considered himself lucky to be able to see this side of Dark.

"I think I can go back to bed." He decided after a moment. "But, uh, you have to make you cuddle me." He said awkwardly. 10 months of dating and Anti still found it awkward to ask to be cuddled. With a mix of therapy (which Dark was also going to, separately, for his own issues) and the support of the others (mainly Robbie, but surprisingly enough, the others ws well, even Marvin, Schneep, and Jackie) he was learning that it was okay that he wasn't some perfect, unstoppable demon all the time. He totally  _ was _ a perfect, unstoppable demon, but sometimes, sometimes he was just Anti.

Dark had made it abundantly clear that he liked--loved, even--just Anti, not the perfect, unstoppable demon.

"That was implied, glitch." Dark laid down on his side, his hair flopping onto the pillow. Anti snorted, laying next to him and easily moving forward into his waiting arms.

"Yeah, well, clarification, bitch."

"Mhm. Goodnight, Anti."

"G'night, Darky."


	2. Angry | Platonic Marvin and Anti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anti has always been nothing but an angry, threatening demon. At least to Marvin.

Anti was, in most ways, a mystery. He was a demon, Marvin knew that much at least, and he seemed to be angry more often than not, especially towards Marvin and the other Septics. He couldn't imagine why, it's not like they did anything to him nor would they ever purposely harm or upset him. He only wished the same could be said for Anti.

Usually, he was calm enough, but it didn't take much to set him off. Especially if you happened to mention Jack.

He and Marvin fought the most, always at each other's throats. A decent amount of scars and bandaged cuts on Marvin were thanks to Anti with his knives and claws, but Marvin knew well enough that Anti had nasty burn marks and bruises from his magic, hidden using demonic powers. As the second oldest of the house, he just wanted to protect his siblings, and Anti happened to be a threat.

And that was it.

That's all Anti was.

A threatening, angry demon, nothing more.

Marvin didn't know why he hated them all so much, why he hated Jack so much. He didn't care. He doubted the reasoning was any good. He had no reason to believe otherwise. Anti had only ever been...angry. Or cruel.

That doesn't exactly give him any incentive to believe Anti had any more depth to him.

So Marvin defended his family and Anti fought for whatever the fuck his goal was, and they fight and fight and fight again.

It was mindless and repetitive but familiar, familiar enough that Marvin slips into the habit for years, and nothing changes.

-

Until it does change.

The amount of physical fights they have has decreased over the years, although not entirely disappeared. It was mostly just biting words and cruel remarks now.

But every now and then, it'd go a little too far and stray into an actual fight instead of a shitty argument.

Marvin was wary.

He knew.

Everybody was gone at that moment, busy, out somewhere, even Henrik. The house was empty.

Except for him.

Except for him, and Anti.

The one time Anti decided to be there instead of the Ipliers or wherever the hell else Anti went happened to be the one time Marvin is up and about in the house, all alone. Just his luck.

He was tense. He  _ knew _ Anti, knew where it was going, knew what would happen. Anti would get bored and fuck with him, picking a fight. Marvin, for all his worth, was not a patient man, at least not when it came to Anti and his bullshit.

So he waited, pacing the living room, waiting for him to-

"Hey Cat boy~"

-show up.

"Anti." Marvin greeted flatly, stopping and turning 180 degrees to see Anti floating upside down in the air.

"Aw, did somebody run out of cat nip?" Anti taunted, turning right side up. "I know a good dealer, just get your mom to blow me and we'll call it even."

"Mature." Marbin crossed his arms, eyes narrowing behind his mask.

"Yep." Anti popped the p, stretching. Something was off, but Marvin couldn't place what and chalked it up to being paranoid because of the tricks Anti liked to pull. "You know, it's a good thing you've always worn that mask, wouldn't want people seeing the times I kicked your ass, huh?"

Marvin grit his teeth.

"Shut the fuck up. Go bother someone else. I'm sure Dark wouldn't mind fucking your easy ass again." He snapped, admittedly regretting the words once they left his mouth. He couldn't deny the satisfaction of seeing Anti, king of being annoying, glitch angrily with no response for a moment, no matter how he regretted saying that.

"The only reason you should be talking about 'easy' is to complain about how easy you are to beat." Anti hissed, a knife appearing in his hand.

Ah.

So it was one of those days.

Marvin readied himself, getting into a fighting stance, magic already swirling around his hands. He prepared to duck, dive, lunge, jump, block, anything. Anti was unpredictable, but Marvin had begun to learn how to deal with the unpredictable.

"Wanna fucking prove it?" He sneered. Anti was oddly quiet, his breathing heavy. Marvin flexed his fingers and shifted his weight, glancing away from Anti off to the side.

"You," Anti started, his voice glitching as his grip on the knife tightened, "you- y-you…" His voice wavered, breaking at the end.

Marvin hesitated, eyeing the demon before lowering his hands a bit.

"...Anti-?"

The knife clattered to the floor noiselessly, the carpet silencing most of it save for a soft thud.

Anti's feet hit the floor, something rare within the Septiceye household.

Marvin stopped, his hands falling to his sides.

"An-"

"I can't." Anti said, the words barely understandable thanks to the mix of him whispering and his voice glitching. 

Marvin wasn't really sure what to think, what to feel, what to  _ do _ as he watched Anti shake his head and bury his face in his hands with a whimper and a choked sob.

This was Anti, the angry demon who he'd fought so much, argued with, insulted.

But it also...wasn't.

Or at least it felt that way.

It was something else, someone else.

An actual person.

A person with emotions other than anger and boredom and ‘I wanna cause problems’, a person who was breaking down right in front of his very eyes.

He moved without thinking--he wasn't sure he could think of anything to think. He walked to Anti--god, had he always been so short, so small? He supposed the fact that he was constantly floating and seen as a threat hid that well--and wrapped his arms around him. What else was he supposed to do? Besides, his big brother instincts kicked in.

Here wasn't Anti.

Here, in front of him, was a small Septiceye, crying for reasons unknown, with no one to help him or comfort him.

Of course Marvin hugged him. He really didn't have a choice in the matter, if you were to ask him.

He half expected to be scratched at or smacked or punched.

Instead, pale, thin arms slipped under his and wrapped around his torso, clinging onto him like Anti would die if he let go, claws digging into the fabric of Marvin's clothes.

"Marvin," Anti started, his voice uncertain and almost a protest.

"Sh," Marvin responded, "it's okay." He combed his gloved fingers through Anti's messy green hair and watched with awe, fascination, and a growing urge to protect someone who was acting mighty like a little brother of his right then as Anti melted at the touch.

The smaller pressed his head forward, smooshing it against Marvin's shoulder and mumbling something mostly incoherent that might've-might've-not-been "I'm sorry, Marvin."

Marvin wasn't sure what exactly to think about how quickly Anti was shifting from "threat" to "another little brother."

"It's okay." He repeated when he heard and felt Anti sniffle and suppress a sob. "You're okay. Just breathe." He encouraged, rubbing circles into the other's back. Anti nodded, moving a bit so his forehead was pressed against Marvin's shoulder, taking deep, shuddering breaths. 

There were no words said for a while, just the sound of Anti's slowly calming breathing and the occasional calming "shh" from Marvin.

They didn't move.

Marvin would let him go once he was ready to be let go, whenever that may have been.

"M'sorry." Anti finally said, his voice hoarse.

"I know."

"For everytin'."

"I know."

"M'sorry, Marv." Anti insisted. Marvin hummed.

"I'm sorry, too. It's okay." He promised. They didn't move again for a while, then Anti abruptly let go and backed up.

Silence. Anti wouldn't look at him.

"You dropped your knife." Marvin finally said.

Anti glanced down at the knife, which he had almost stepped on in his haste to get away.

"Yeah." He leaned down, scooping it up quickly but not pointing it at Marvin, thankfully. 

"You-" Marvin started. He wasn't sure what he was going to originally say but it didn’t matter, as Anti cut him off.

"Look, kitty cat," he knew Marvin hated that but Marvin couldn't find it in him to be upset about it currently, not when Anti is dodging meeting his gaze and has his shoulders hunched to his ears, "I'll… I'll stop pickin' fights wit' you n'shit if ye don't tell anyone about that."

Marvin was sure it said something about the difference between them and the people they hung out with that the thought of maybe blackmailing Anti hadn't even popped into his head.

(Although whether that was because it was just a bad thing to do or just because he didn't have any solid proof to back up any possible blackmailing was unknown, and Marvin decidedly didn't go looking for the answer.)

"I wasn't going to tell anyone." Marvin said, slightly amused.

"Well. Good, then." Anti said awkwardly, clawed hands wringing his wrists. Marvin's amusement only grew.

It seemed that Marvin wasn't the only one who didn't know what to do when Anti wasn't some angry enemy to fight.

He decidedly didn't push his luck by asking what caused the crying in the first place, instead just casually sitting on the couch and watching Anti out of the corner of his eye.

Anti uncertainly hovered for a moment, then sat on the opposite end of the couch. Marvin tried to relax, reaching for the remote and turning on the TV. Whatever show was playing glitched occasionally, thanks to Anti's presence, but neither of them mentioned it.

The demon kicked his feet up onto the coffee table in front of them, green converse resting on the wood. Marvin brightened.

"You do that, too?"

"What?" Anti raised an eyebrow. Marvin kicked up his feet, leather boots contrasting the worn oak.

"That."

"Oh." Anti hummed. "Yeah. Schneep's always on m'case about it."

"Right? I don't see the big deal, it's not like my shoes are super dirty." The magician agreed. Anti snickered.

"Yeah, and mine don't even touch the floor, usually!"

"Yeah!" Marvin laughed and Anti fought a smile, obviously trying to stay intimidating. Marvin didn't want to and wasn’t going to tell him he had stopped thinking of him as intimidating 5 minutes ago. "Henrik's just like that."

"Mhm. So are you sometimes, you know." Anti replied.

"I am  _ not _ on Henrik's level." Marvin answered, offended.

Anti raised his eyebrows.

"Whatever you say."

"You bast-"


	3. Forgetful | Antistache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anti knows that Wilford forgets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really felt like writing some Wilford stuff

“Sometimes,” he says softly, like speaking any louder would break him. It catches Anti’s attention and the glitch turns on his side to face the man, “sometimes I have these...moments of clarity.”

Anti isn’t really sure what to say to that, so he stays quiet for once.

They’re laying out in some grassy field, the stars in the night sky bright above them and the grass somewhat itchy and cool underneath them. Wilford is still laid on his back, his gaze up on the sky.

His mustache twitches a little and his brow furrows slightly.

“Sometimes I remember.” He continues. “Sometimes I _remember_ and I don’t know what to do. I think I prefer not remembering.” Wilford closes his eyes, like he was in pain. “They’re all dead, and it’s _my_ fault. How am I supposed to _live_ with that?” He laughs humorlessly and Anti is pretty sure he can see light catch on what seems to be tears in the corners of his eyes. “How am I supposed to...to...to go on knowing that I…” His voice breaks. If Anti had a heart, it’d break right along with it.

He still isn’t sure what to say. He decides to just reach over and takes his hand. Wilford doesn’t pull away or open his eyes but takes a shuddering breath, so Anti gives his hand a light squeeze.

“Sorry.” Wilford mumbles, opening his eyes and using his free arm to carelessly wipe his eyes onto the yellow sleeve of his button up.

“It’s fine.” Anti is quick to ensure, embarrassingly so, but it’s only him and Wilford there, so he thinks it’s okay to be nice. Just this once. Probably. “Are you okay?”

Wilford hums, turning and facing Anti. He lifts his hand up and kisses it, his mustache tickling the skin a bit. He raises an eyebrow up at him, as if confused.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks somewhat seriously. Anti stares at him for a long moment, taking note of the apparently genuine confusion and slight worry in Wilford’s eyes.

“Right,” he agrees, almost sadly, “yer fine.” Anti moves the hand that Wilford kissed to cup his face and watches him lean into the touch. “Just fine.”

Anti knows.

Anti knows Wilford forgets, and remembers.

Anti knows Wilford is broken beyond fixing.

As he hears Wilford start to hum, he cocks his head questioningly, silently asking what song.

Wilford pauses, his brow creasing in thought.

“I...don’t know.” He lifts a hand to his head like he caught a migraine. Anti merely leans in and kisses Wilford’s nose, smiling a bit when it makes Wilford grin and the ends of his mustache curl.

“Alright.”

Anti has long since decided that he’s okay with it.

“Broken” was just his type, anyway.


	4. Love at First Fight | Danti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anti meets Dark and immediately decides that he's hot, and that he wants to fight him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh warning for lots of blood mention, choking, stabbing...They're not nice to each other, what did you expect? Anti is a horny bastard and also violent, Dark sees something useful but also why is this little twink who stabbed him and ruined his suit hot? But uh, yeah, just, be careful

"Marvin," Anti whined, dragging out the name, "don't leave me here with these assholes."

"You're not coming."

"Please?" Anti continued to whine, loud and obnoxious and really god damn annoying, grating on Marvin's ears (and nerves) just how he wanted. He couldn't help the swell of pride in his chest when Marvin took a slow, deep breath and nodded tiredly.

"Fine, but only to get you to shut up." He said flatly, almost hissing.

"This is why you’re my favorite brother!” Anti cheered. Marvin rolled his eyes behind his mask. 

“I already said yes, don’t lie to my face like that.” He scoffed, elbowing Anti lightly and getting shoved in response.

“So...where are we going again?” Anti asked, picking at his teeth with a clawed finger as he followed Marvin out the door. 

Marvin bristled a bit.

“I already told you, I’m-”

“We’re.”   
  


“-going to see a friend for a day or two and attending his party.” Marvin sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, I was just making sure you remembered.” Anti dismissed, giggling at the grunt he got in response. 

-

Anti sighed loudly, the sound interrupting Marvin and his friend who’s name Anti hadn’t bothered to remember’s conversation as his head fell back against the couch they were seated on.

He doesn’t need to look to see Marvin’s brow furrowing in irritation.

“Anti, if you’re that bored, then why-” He started, but his friend cut him off.

“Why don’t you stay here and we’ll take our oh so boring conversation elsewhere?” Anti gave him a sideways glance.

“Ye really think it’s a good idea to leave me alone? In yer house?” He asked, amused. Marvin hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, Bim, I don’t want your house to be wrecked.”

“Not alone.” Marvin’s friend--Bim? Whatever--corrected. “My friend Dark’s lurking around. You guys are both edgy and angry often, maybe you’ll get along.” He stood and Marvin gave Anti a look that read  _ ‘behave _ ,’ which earned him a wide grin that said  _ ‘never’  _ in response.

“Yeah,” Marvin muttered doubtfully, and Anti couldn’t blame the magician. Him? Get along with anyone? Fat chance.

Anti told him as much.

Bim merely shrugged.

“All well. My problem, then.” With that, he disappeared upstairs and around a corner. Anti snorted, then giggled maniacally when Marvin sent him a tired glare and followed after his friend.

They both knew Anti was absolutely going to cause some trouble. It was inevitable.

He leaned back against the couch and kicked his feet up onto the table. It took all of 13 seconds for him to get bored and another 5 for him to flip the table, grinning as everything on it crashed to the floor along with the wooden piece of furniture.

He trailed his claws along the couch, creating tears from which stuffing stuck out, before getting ready to flip that, too. Suddenly, the room temperature seemed to drop and the air seemed almost suffocating. Luckily, being the demon he was, it didn’t affect him so much as just irritate and distract him. He turned around.

There was...something in the doorway. Maybe a man. They were looking at their phone, apparently unaware of Anti’s presence.

“Bim, what th-” He started, sounding mildly annoyed before raising his gaze and stopping short. “Oh.”

Anti grinned widely. He snapped his fingers and the man dropped his phone in surprise as it glitched and fried, zapping his hand slightly.

  
“What the fuck?” He muttered, glaring at Anti. Anti hummed, taking a moment to actually look at him and feeling his jaw go slack.

The probably-man had dead, gray skin and neatly styled black hair. He donned a half buttoned white shirt with black suitjacket, dress pants, and fancy shoes that probably had some stupid name that Anti didn’t care for--although he certainly cared for how the outfit clung to the other’s muscular body and his sharp jawline, among other things. The scarlet of his eyes stuck out from the monochrome color palette.

He was hot.

Anti wanted to fight him.

He straightened his back, a too-wide grin stretching his face.

“Antisepticeye. Nice to meet ya, I’m assuming you’re Dork?” He mocked.

The stranger narrowed his eyes.

“ _ Dark _ iplier.” He said coldly, lip curling in a sneer. Anti laughed at him.

“Creative.” He taunted, hiding his knife behind his back. Dark growled and fuck, that wasn’t fair, he shouldn’t be allowed to sound hot when Anti was trying to pick a fight.

“Shut it.”

Anti could see the anger stewing and they could both see his response coming from a mile away.

“Make me.” Dark snarled at that and Anti was relatively certain there was a weird ringing in his ears as the other stalked towards him. The glitch lunged forward happily, planting his knife in the other’s chest as he tackled him onto the floor. He yanked it out with a rather gross sound, then he stabbed it into a different part of the man’s broad chest, then he did it all over again, and again, and again, laughing all the while. The feel of blood--it was black, and cold, and seemed more like some sort of oil than blood, but blood was blood--splattering all over his cheek and hands and arms only added to his giddy murderous joy.

He only stopped when a pair of cold hands, larger than his own, grabbed his wrists and held them from pulling the blade back out. Anti blinked at the gray hands, then looked up to see Dark staring at him with an unreadable expression that shifted into...mild annoyance? Not pain or horror or fear or any of the good stuff.

“You’re-”

“Still alive?” Dark guessed, his mild annoyance melting into mild amusement when Anti nodded. Dark let go of his wrists and Anti slowly slid the knife out, admiring the black blood glistening on the silver blade. “Only as alive as I was, which wasn’t much.” He nudged Anti, then shoved him off when he didn’t move.

Anti grumbled in annoyance, glitching up into the air and hovering. Dark stood up and Anti floated up higher to be eye level with him.

“You ruined my suit,” Dark scowled, pressing a hand to the wounds that were dirtying his white shirt. He pulled it away, all black and glistening, and he glared at it like it killed his mother. Did this guy even have a mother? Not that Anti could judge, he didn’t.

“Eh.” Anti shrugged, snorting when Dark examined the cuts in his jacket made by his wild stabbing with a pout. “Sooo...what? You can’t die?”

Anti busied himself with cleaning his knife--with his tongue, of course, blood was usually tasty--as he waited for a response.

He heard Dark make an odd sort of noise before coughing and cracking his neck, making a sickening sound remarkably similar to the sound a neck makes when you break it. Anti thought it was cool.

“You...shouldn’t... _ ingest _ my  _ blood _ …” He mumbled weakly. Anti shrugged again. “It’s poisonous.”

“Tastes like chocolate syrup but sour-ish and not like chocolate syrup at all.”

“That makes no sense.” Dark argued, then shook his head. “Whatever. No, I can’t really...die. I’m already dead. And not dead. It’s very-”

“-very  _ boring _ .” Anti complained. Dark’s eye twitched.

“And you? What are you, a computer virus?” He scoffed. Anti took offense to that, getting right up in Dark’s face and shoving a finger at Dark’s chest, narrowly avoiding jamming it into a stab wound.

“I am a  _ glitch _ . Not a virus. Not a bug. G-L-I-T-C-H. Glitch! The best and only one around!” He hissed, his voice glitching and distorting as he spoke as if to prove his point.

Dark raised an eyebrow, that same unreadable expression taking over his stupid face.

He studied Anti, eyeing him up and down, gaze lingering on his bleeding throat and his knife, before he hummed and shrugged.

“I’m sure you are. Do you usually resort to such…” Dark shamelessly reached out and grabbed Anti tightly by the throat, his palm right over the cut and turning red with blood. “...savage, primal ways to take over a body, or was it just the one time?”

Anti did not yelp and he would kill Dark for claiming he did, if he could.

“You- let go, you fucker!” Anti hissed, dropping his knife in favor of clawing--literally, he used his claws and everything--at the wrist and arm of the hand holding him.

“Glitch, then.” Dark ordered flatly. “Glitch out of my grasp.” Anti squirmed. He didn’t like to do what he was told, hated it with a passion, and it was harder to focus on using his powers in this situation for multiple reasons including but not limited to: he was being choked and told what to do and he hated it, and he was being choked and told what to do and he  _ loved  _ it.

After a moment, he allowed himself to do as ordered, just this once. He glitched out of Dark’s grip, his sneakers hitting the floor as he coughed and glared at him. Dark seemed unphased, looking almost bored as he wiped blood off by smearing it onto his already ruined shirt carelessly.

“Good.” He smirked. “So you  _ can  _ listen.” He leaned down so they were eye level again, giving Anti a condescending once over. “You just need...motivation, it seems.”

Anti shifted uncomfortably, snatching up his knife and cutting Dark’s cheek in one swift move and earning a displeased hiss.

“Fuck. You.” The glitch snapped.

Dark rolled his eyes, straightening up and running a hand through his raven hair.

“I think I’ll be seeing you around.” He scowled as he eyed his suit again, and Anti felt a sense of satisfaction that was quickly overcome with confusion when Dark eyed him with a blank expression, something unreadable in his eyes.

“Yeah.” Anti licked the fucker’s blood off his knife again, grinning at the look of disgust he got. Dark turned away. “See ya around, Darky~”

Dark shook his head.

“You’re an odd little creature.”

Anti didn’t know what to say to that, not that he had a chance to reply when Dark was already leaving, taking the cold air, suffocating aura, and the ringing in Anti’s ears with him.

The glitch flopped back onto the couch.

He would definitely have to find this guy again. Anti hated him already, liked him already, and hated that he liked him already. 

All well.

At least it seemed Dark was just as interested and pissed off by  _ him  _ as he was.

Anti grinned up at the ceiling, his manic, glitchy giggles filling the room and echoing.

“This is gonna be  _ fun _ .”


	5. Like You | Danti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark might need to reconsider what a friendship is.  
> -  
> Based on the prompt:  
> “I just don’t think this person’s right for you, you should date someone better, someone who gets you, someone like-” “You?”

Dark startled at the sound of frantic knocking at his door, annoyance taking over his features as it continued.

“Who-?” He mumbled, walking over and opening the door. His annoyance waned as he took in the sight before him.

Anti was standing in front of him, not floating, and gaze both cast down and far off. His eyes glistened with what might have been unshed tears, one hand still up and poised to knock, the other clenched into a fist by his side.

Dark stared at him.

“Hi.” Anti muttered after nothing was said for too long, voice rough and somehow fragile sounding.

“You knocked.” Dark pointed out stupidly. Anti did that to him far too often, made him stupid and act irrationally.

“No shit.” The smaller scoffed, crossing his arms, claws noticeably digging into the meat of them.

“You...never knock.” Dark finally moved, stepping aside in a wordless invitation. “Is everything-?”

“Mngh,” Anti grunted, slipping inside without answering.

Dark blinked, then shut the door and followed after Anti, who sat on the couch and took a shuddering breath that only heightened the other’s worry.

“Anti?” He asked, hearing his voice soften without his permission.

Said demon shook his head, waiting for Dark to sit next to him before leaning over and burying his face in his shoulder, inhaling deeply. Dark instinctively wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Can you just- can we-” Anti took a deep breath. “Is it okay if we just stay here like this for a while? Wit’ you holding me n’ shit.” He mumbled against Dark’s suit.

“Of course,” Dark agreed immediately, without even having to think about it, and maybe he should have been concerned about that, “of  _ course _ .” He rubbed Anti’s shoulder with his thumb.

They weren’t friends.

Anti was stupid for trusting him.

Dark could have manipulated him, used him so easily.

The problem was; he wasn’t acting. He wasn’t pretending to be nice.

That...scared him. Terrified him, even.

Dark could have manipulated him, but he didn’t.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

-

Dark leaned back against his couch. He wore a loose fitting dark blue v-neck t-shirt and scarlet sweatpants. His hair was not styled, mussed from running his hands through it out of habit.

He would have been mortified if anyone saw him at that moment.

Anyone, except Anti.

“There should be more movies where the bad guys win,” Anti declared, less than three feet away from him on the couch. A baggy black t-shirt that looked suspiciously like one Dark had lost a few months back hung from his pale frame, neon green pajama pants long enough that they almost hid his hot pink fuzzy socks. Almost. Not that it mattered, Dark already knew they were there and had teased him about it earlier that night.

“There should be, but as these are deemed as either cliffhangers or something along the lines of a sad ending, I doubt there will be.” Anti elbowed him.

“Don’t kill my dreams, asshole.”

They had been watching a Star Wars movie. Dark didn’t care to remember which one.

He rolled his eyes.

“Hm,” Dark hummed, stretching his arms until his shoulder popped satisfyingly. Anti took the opportunity to shuffle closer, managing to get under his arm before he lowered it, ending up with an arm wrapped around Anti. Their knees knocked against each other, then simply rested against each other instead.

Dark didn’t bring it up.

Neither did Anti.

He clicked on a new movie as he felt the smaller demon’s head lean onto his shoulder. He still said nothing of it, although he tensed.

After a few minutes of the movie playing, Anti casually commented something stupid about it. Dark responded in kind with a snort, relaxing and letting his chin rest on Anti’s head.

They weren’t friends.

They simply...did some things that friends might do, that was all.

-

“Yer almost cute like this, y’know.”

Dark didn’t think he had ever heard Anti’s voice so soft, so gentle.

His eyes were closed and he was still, so Anti probably thought he was asleep. He had no intention of correcting him, at least not yet.

Anti was sitting on one end of the couch and Dark was laid across the rest of it, his head in Anti’s lap and feet resting on the armrest of the other side. He was close to actually being asleep; Anti had a hand running through his hair, the other resting lightly on Dark’s chest, and his voice was so...soothing, at least right now.

“Usually, yer always so...tense and uptight, sometimes angry and sometimes just downright depressing.” Anti snickered at that. “But…” Dark feels the hand on his chest leave and then it’s cupping his face, rubbing his cheek with a clawed thumb affectionately. “Pretty, I guess. Yer hot. Right now, yer just...cute, though. I think...”

Dark could easily imagine Anti’s eyes getting cloudy with thought, sharp teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he stared off somewhere. It was one of his favorite expressions the demon made.

“I think I like seeing you so relaxed.” He whispered it like it was a secret, and maybe it was. “I think I…” Dark waited, but Anti never finished the thought, his hand going back to his chest, rising and falling with his slow breathing.

“Sleep well, asshole.”

Dark barely contained a smile, but managed to keep up his sleeping facade long enough for it to become real.

He had been pretty sure they weren’t friends.

It was possible to think someone was cute while not being friends. (He had no argument for why he trusted someone who wasn’t a friend or more enough to be in that position, though.)

-

“You work too much and too hard,” Anti’s voice rang out. Dark, who valued work over everything, stopped typing and shut his laptop, forgetting to even save his work in favor of meeting Anti’s gaze.

“You work too little and not hard enough.” He replied, though he rested his elbow on his desk and then his chin on his hand. “What are you doing here, Anti?”

“What, not happy to see me?” Anti feigned hurt, glitching over so he was sitting on the edge of his desk. “I’m hurt, Dark.” He teased.

“I didn’t say that.” Dark answered without thinking. Anti raised an eyebrow and Dark cleared his throat, willing away the heat in his cheeks. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Nah.” Dark opened his mouth to question him further but Anti continued on his own. “I came to see you. Just ‘cause.”

“Oh.” He said, blinking slowly at Anti, who grinned like the Cheshire cat and then began to talk.

Dark listened intently, humming and offering the occasional one-word response when needed. It went for a while, admittedly a long while for someone to be talking, especially in a mostly one-sided conversation.

Anti stopped abruptly and Dark glanced around in mild alarm to see what was wrong.

“Sorry,” Anti laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “I just- uh, sorry for just barging in and then talking yer ears off. I talk a lot, so,”

“It’s not a bad thing.” Dark found himself saying. He also found that it wasn’t a lie. “I like it.”

“What?”

“I like hearing you talk.” Dark admitted. “It’s, ah...nice?”

Anti stared at him, a smile tugging at his lips. He was failing to fight it, though he was clearly trying to.

“Yer weird,” Anti said, “n’ stupid.”

“I know you are but what am I.” Dark replied childishly, laughing when he got shoved in response. Maybe Anti was rubbing off on him.

Maybe they might be friends.

Only maybe, though.

-

Dark paced his office.

If he were a better man and not a manipulative...being, maybe he would try to brush it off considering this was frankly none of his damn business, but he was not a better man.

He made it his business to know other people’s business, especially if he car- especially if the person was useful to him.

He did, however, acknowledge that it wasn’t important and shouldn’t matter and that he most definitely shouldn’t be so worked up about something that wasn’t even serious.

If Wilford or any of the others knew, they most likely would’ve teased him relentlessly about it.

Anti had a new ‘boy toy.’

It wasn’t even a boyfriend, and not like Dark--who didn’t even feel comfortable referring to the two of them as friends--had any valid reasoning for being jealous.

He bristled, his aura splitting and reconnecting.

Dark dragged a hand down over his face.

He didn’t care. He’d get over it fine. Anti could be with whoever he wanted, they  _ weren’t  _ friends let alone...anything more.

He was wringing his hands when static filled his ears and he turned in time to see Anti glitch into his office.

“Hey, Dark, I- woah.” Anti raised his eyebrows. “Someone’s in a bad mood. What’s yer problem?”

“It’s...nothing.”

“Oh, bullshit.” Anti crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. “Dark, we’ve been friends for years,” Dark subtly winced, “I thought we moved past this kinda shit. What’s wrong?”

“I shouldn’t be upset about this.” Dark sighed, but explained anyway when Anti shot him a glare. “It’s just, your, uh,” he waved a hand.

It seemed to click.

“My...boy toy?” He sounded amused. “You’re jealous?”

“No!” Dark felt a blush creep up his neck and rushed to get his point across. “No, I- no, just-” He rarely stumbled over his words. Rarely didn’t mean never. “I just don’t think this person’s right for you, you should date someone better, someone who gets you, someone-”

“Like you?” Anti raised an eyebrow, smirking when Dark sputtered.

“I didn’t say that,” Dark protested weakly.

“You didn’t not.” Anti countered, walking over. Dark backed up instinctively until his back hit the wall. Anti cocked his head, winding Dark’s tie around his hand and tugging him down to his height. “Dark,”

“Anti,” Dark replied in a light hearted tone, earning a snort and a sharp look.

“Let me be serious for once, asshole.” He grumbled. “Dark, do you like me?”

  
  
“We’re not middle schoolers.” Dark muttered, smirking slightly when Anti tugged harshly on his tie. “Alright, alright. I... _ might _ have  _ some  _ feelings for you.”

“No shit.” Anti got on his toes and connected their lips briefly. “I like you, too, stupid.”


End file.
